


The Ninth Horcrux

by literallyhelp



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drama, F/M, Malfoy!Reader - Freeform, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:48:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29704302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/literallyhelp/pseuds/literallyhelp
Summary: The life and death of Cecily Aurelia Malfoy.A 2nd POV fic where the reader is Draco Malfoy's younger sister. When Voldemort comes back to power, the Malfoys are the first to be called to action. The children are pulled from school to assist their Dark Lord in the murder of Harry Potter, the friendly boy that Cecily had been shacking up with before Quidditch games. After digging around, she finds that Voldemort attempted to use her as a vessel for a piece of his soul, and it had worked. Cecily was also a horcrux, and in order for Voldemort to be defeated, she had to die.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Original Female Character(s), Harry Potter/Reader, Harry Potter/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 2





	The Ninth Horcrux

You were different. Different from your family, friends, and those who your family was allied with. It sometimes felt like you were the only person you knew that had a brain. Your father told you, as long as you could remember, that you were a _Malfoy_ , that you were the superior race and family, and you had to act as such. From a young age, your platinum hair was perfectly groomed and fashioned into a style to keep it out of your face. As soon as you could sit up without assistance, you were feeding yourself at the dinner table with silver dinnerware. Even your clothes were perfect. Nobody ever saw your diaper unless you were being changed.

You were not the only one being groomed into perfection. You older brother, Draco, was a year and a few months older than you, so it was difficult for him to say your whole name as the two of you grew up. Instead of calling you “Ceci”, which was all he could muster up at the young age of eighteen months, your father insisted that he refer to you as “Cecily”, because it was your name. Cecily Aurelia Malfoy. It was quite the mouthful.

When Draco went to Hogwarts, you felt alone. It wasn’t as if Draco was your best friend or anything similar, but it was nice to have someone to play with, even if they were being forced into it. You found a friendship in the peculiar house elf you grew up with, Dobby. He had big, floppy ears, and always greeted you with a pleasant smile. When you started at Hogwarts the following year, you were surprised to see Dobby checking in on you. Much to your surprise, you found that on the last day of classes Dobby was no longer your family’s elf. You felt lonely when he was gone, but you were glad that he was able to get away. He still wrote to you.

Your father adorned your room at home with green and silver to celebrate your classification into Slytherin, just as the entire family expected. You spent all summer with Draco and his friends, only to find that when school started in the fall, you were alone yet again. Professor Snape, the head of Slytherin house and an old friend to your family, found you to be learning quicker than the other second years, so he placed you in classes with Draco. Your brother despised it, and it was obvious. You wondered why he resented you so much.

The first time you realized you were different was during your favorite class, Care of Magical Creatures. The class was taught by a supersized man with a thick accent, and on the first day, you were introduced to an animal you had only seen in story books. Unfortunately, Draco found himself jealous of Harry Potter, a young boy in Gryffindor, and attempted to approach the wild animal. He was attacked, just as you expected, and complained to your father. Draco was the pride and joy of the Malfoy family, so of course, the situation was handled. You began to be disgusted with your brother.

The next year was the Triwizard Cup, and many different people from all over Europe arrived to Hogwarts. You spent that year meeting new people and learning new things. You craved adventure, but something in the back of your mind told you that you would never get to experience the world. That was the year you actually got to speak to Harry Potter. It was him and Ron Weasley sitting alone at a table at the peak of the Yule Ball. Your brother had told everyone in Slytherin not to try anything with you, so you went to the dance alone, and seeing more people alone made you feel better. You approached the table with your hands folded in front of you, a small smile playing on your lips.

Your parents had sent you a gorgeous champagne gown to wear to the ball. It was a satin material that came in at the waist and flared out, matching tulle falling down to your ankles. You felt as if the color of the dress made your pale skin look more sickly than glowing, but the older girls in the Slytherin dorms that assisted you in getting ready disagreed. They said that you were going to be the prettiest girl there. They applied a muggle brand of mascara to your long, dark brown lashes, coating them in a black goop that made them nearly long enough to touch the bottom of your eyebrows, and a shimmery lip gloss that made your lips stick together. Your platinum blonde hair was braided over your shoulder and rested on the high neckline of the dress you wore. You didn’t spend too long admiring yourself, afraid you would find something wrong with the look, so as soon as you were dressed, you followed the pack of taller women down to the ball.

As you approached the boys, Ronald was the first to look up at you, and he did _not_ look happy to see you.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” He groaned, reaching his hands up to run his hands through his hair.

“Oh,” You said, not expecting the hostility on his voice. “I was just wondering if I could sit with you two.”

“You won’t ask us to dance, will you?” Harry grumbled.

“Not at all, I hate dancing.” You replied, then sat at the table with them. “I’m Cecily. I guess you already knew that, though.”

“You’re Malfoy’s sister, we know.” Ron said, not turning his head to look at her.

“Yes, but I’m also just Cecily.” You insisted, leaning forward towards them. “Don’t let Draco have the pleasure of creating a reputation for me.”

Ron never referred to you as “Malfoy’s sister” again.

It hurt you to see all the backlash Harry got for telling everyone that Voldemort was back, and he had killed Cederic Diggory. You knew for a fact that Voldemort was back because you had seen him. You and Draco were sworn to secrecy, not being allowed to discuss your father’s Death Eater status while away from home. When your fourth year started, you found yourself dreading your schooling experience. Professor Umbridge was a vile person, and every second you were around her, you felt ill. You found yourself being the only Slytherin attending the Dumbledore’s Army meetings. At first, the other members were hesitant around you, and you assumed they had a good reason, so you played wallflower for a while until you gained their trust. You and Harry became good friends over the course of meeting in the Room of Requirement. When you heard that your older cousin, Sirius, was killed by your aunt, you had no idea how to react. All you knew was that Harry needed a friend. You found yourself writing to him over the summer, trying to comfort him, only to not receive a reply. You hoped he wasn’t mad at you.

Entering your fifth year, you could tell that there was a different dynamic between you and Harry. He did not avoid you, but instead sought you out. It was confusing you. The boy, now a young man, confided in you about his sorrows. He shared that he felt alone after Sirius died, and how things did not feel right with Dumbledore. You assured him that if he had no one else in the world, he had you.

Harry kissed you.

It was weird, for sure, but not bad. You had never kissed anyone before, so you were unsure of what to do with your lips, but apparently it was good, because he continued to kiss you. It was always in private, where no one could see, but that was okay with you. If Draco heard that you were kissing anyone, let alone the one boy in the entire school he despised, you would not be allowed to breathe anymore. You were sure of it. The kisses were shared as a good luck token before Quidditch matches, before exams, and as comfort after excursions. Some were gentle, only your lips touching his, and some were intense and desperate, with Harry pressing you up against a wall and your hands gripping onto his shoulders like he was the only thing keeping you on your feet. It was never more than kissing and a little feeling, though. Harry never pressured you, and you returned that kindness by not pressing him to do more than what he wanted to do. It was a nice arrangement you had.

After Dumbledore died, you didn’t see Harry. Your parents pulled you out of Hogwarts and told you that you would not be attending that school anymore, that your time was to be dedicated to serving the Dark Lord, the most powerful wizard in the world. You tried writing to Harry, begging for his forgiveness, that you had no choice but to leave Hogwarts and him. You never got a reply. You weren’t even sure if your letters were delivered. You saw very little of the outside world, your entire life being consumed by dark magic as soon as you were pulled from school.


End file.
